Of Mice, Cats, Men
by Virgina E
Summary: One year, post-TDK. The Joker's got himself an attorney and Bruce has new arm candy, and the lady in question for both men is none other than Ms. Lee August, who's got her own agenda to think of. Lots of crime and drama, and probably more sex than love.
1. Manila Folder

_Eh, this is my first fanfic so definitely review and let me know what you thought._

_It starts out as Lee/Bruce, might move to other trysts._

_If you read this thoroughly instead of just scanning it for bits of sexual misadventures, I promise to make it worth your while, and probably tell a good story while we're at it._

_Enjoy._

_- Virge_

* * *

><p>Lee straightened up and flashed Mr. Barron her most winning smile. He groaned loudly and thrust his groin- raging erection and all- towards her.<p>

"Please, baby, please finish me off-"

"Mr. Barron," said Lee, pulling herself back onto her feet quickly and roughly shoving his shoulders back, "You forget yourself."

She passed a hand through her hair and swiftly pulled out a compact mirror to check her lipstick. It wasn't smeared too badly.

"But-" said Mr. Barron, slow to sense the obvious. His hard-on was fast fading.

Lee had known men like this all her life. Mr. Barron came from a breed that slipped up the corporate ladder with smiling ease. His parents were rich and he always gotten his way, with every woman, with every job, nothing money can't buy. Lee looked at him with loathing and wondered how no one else could see the disgusting slug stuffed into a suit that he really was.

"I have to go," she said and, without checking to see if no one was listening in behind the door, walked out into the dim hallway.

"Can I see you again?" said Mr. Barron, not bothering to zip up, not concerned enough to keep his voice down.

"Not likely," Lee said and smiled broadly as her heels clicked against the linoleum.

* * *

><p>"Mrs. August, you're late," said the mustached gentleman as he rose from her leather couch to greet her.<p>

"It's Ms. August, actually," said Lee, "I'm not married."

The man only grinned more broadly and ran a hand through his oiled hair.

"But to business," she said, meeting his eyes full-on, "I hear you've got an interesting proposition for me. One so interesting, you refused to tell my secretary or my co-counsels about it."

"I do, yes," he said quickly with a half-bow.

Lee waited.

"My name is Mr. Tollini," the man said and hesitated to scan the room nervously before adding, "I work for the the Maronis."

Lee raised her eyebrows. Italian mobsters had sent this nervous, oily gentleman. It wasn't the first time.

"Salvatore Maroni get out of that car crash last year ok?" she said.

Mr. Tollini grinned.

"Yes, and he followed your participation in the Jonathan Crane case with much interest," he said.

"I was prosecuting him, yes," said Lee.

"We'd like to hire your services in defense of a certain man," said Mr. Tollini. He paused for dramatic effect.

"Who?" said Lee when it was clear he needed her prompting.

"Jack Napier," said Mr. Tollini with a smirk.

Lee shook her head blankly.

"I'm not familiar with-"

"He's the Joker," said Tollini and settled back in his chair, all tension suddenly released.

Lee raised her eyebrows again and looked over Tollini's forehead. Her mind was running a few steps ahead; questions, doubts, and all kinds of future complications shuttled through her.

"How much?" she asked.

"Fify K a day," said Tollini, "For every day it takes."

Lee looked carefully at Mr. Tollini.

"You're not afraid I'll drag this case out longer than it needs to be dragged out at this exorbitant fee?" she said, "Or rather, the Maronis aren't?"

"We know you'll do what it takes to get the job done," said Tollini with another smirk.

"We'll talk next week," said Lee, getting up from behind her desk.

"We'll talk tomorrow," said Tollini.

"I'll see you in a week," Lee said and opened the door, ready for him to leave.

Tollini shook his head and grinned.

"Monday, then?" he said.

"Seven o'clock," she said.

"I'll, uh, leave you with these files," said Tollini, "You might be interested in them while you think it over in that pretty head of yours."

He was handing her a grimy manila folder. Lee swallowed her grimance.

"Got any questions for me?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Lee, "Ask Mr. Maroni to come in himself if he really wants this case done."

Tollini bared his teeth and laughed loudly and scuttled out of the room.

Lee looked at the file in her hands. It was thick; probably full of dirty little secrets.

She sat down at her desk and paged Carl and took a sip from her water bottle.

Carl Turgeon came quickly; he'd probably been following the conversation on the discrete intercom system.

"Lee Rosie August, I can read your mind," he said with a smile.

"Read it for me, Carl, because I haven't decided anything yet," she replied.

"You don't want to be tangled up with the Maronis. You don't like the fish on the front doorstep, the shoes with cement. You're thinking Fifty K could retire you for life, but you don't like the sound of a dirty Fifty K," said Carl, "You're thinking 'No'."

Lee looked down and shifted the files in her hand and nodded.

"Lee," said Carl, straightening his plaid tie and looking her in the eye, using the persuasive tone of voice he usually reserved for their clients, "Listen. This kind of offer- I'm not trying to sound all cliché Hollywood here- but this kind of offer comes once every lifetime."

"So you're thinking 'Yes'," said Lee.

"I'm thinking you need to beef up and take that case the way you made me beef up and take the Pittsburgh case. Remember that?" said Carl.

"Yeah, sure, I remember it," said Lee.

"You're not getting your scruples back, are you?" said Carl.

Lee smiled.

"I got a few scruples. I also got a few rational thoughts. Like, how would you like Gotham City to turn against August and Turgeon and Associates in Law faster than an eyeblink? How would you like our PR to take a nose-dive?"

"So go visit a few cancer kids," said Carl, "Take a day off and plant a tree and get the newspapers to write an article about it. PR is easily done. But what Stephen Shulman did for Nixon, William Jennings Bryan did for the Bible, we can do for Gotham's favorite criminal."

Lee looked out the window.

"And for fifty K a day too," said Carl.

Lee shook her head and exhaled loudly.

"Tell me how you convince me into things infinitely bad for me every time," she said.

"With infinite pleasure," he replied.

"You take care of the madding crowd, I'll take care of Wayne Enterprises," said Lee as she slipped Carl the manila folder on her way out of the office.

"Shouldn't be hard," said Carl with a half-smile.

"Harder than you think," said Lee, "He's a very impossible man."

* * *

><p>"Lee," said Bruce Wayne, holding her at arm's length for a smile and a chaste peck on the forehead, "How are you?"<p>

"I'm fine," she said, "And you? How was golf with Linell Incorporated?"

"You know," said Bruce, "Surprisingly more competitive than I bartered for. You smell great, by the way. Is it new?"

"No, it's not new," said Lee with a toss of her hair, "Shall we?"

Bruce took her by the elbow and they walked towards the front entrance to Le Chatellier. Music and laughter and the clink of a dozen glamorous glasses held high sounded.

Lee waited until Bruce was seated and the waiter waved away with their orders before breaking the news to him.

"I think I'm going to take on a new case," she said.

"So soon?" said Bruce, "I was thinking we could take a little time off from work, both of us, and escape somewhere."

Lee smiled and subtly checked her watch.

"It's a big case," she said.

"I thought the Jonathan Crane case was pretty big," he said with a chuckle, "You should've won that one."

"It's the Joker case," said Lee quickly. She raised her eyes to check his reaction.

Bruce stopped smiling.

"The Joker?" he said, "Lee, are you nuts? If you prosecute him, you're going to have your entrails literally removed from you by force somehow."

Lee shook her head.

"I'm not prosecuting him. I'm defending him in court."

Bruce's jaw dropped.

"I got the case today," said Lee.

"But- that bastard," said Bruce, "How'd he get someone to contact you?"

"It was Maroni's men," said Lee, "I think they're trying to cover something up. I'm not sure why they would want to protect him after all he's done."

"I don't know about this, Lee," said Bruce, looking intently at his empty plate, "You do know he's batshit crazy."

"I know, Bruce," said Lee, "He crashed your party last year. I was there."

"Oh, yeah, I'd forgot," said Bruce, "Did you see what he did?"

Lee smiled and looked at Bruce closely.

"No, I was off in another room when he entered. I did hear the gunshots. By the time I got back, he'd left."

"I see," said Bruce.

They sat for a while in silence.

"Lee, he's absolutely insane," said Bruce, "I don't you should take the case."

Lee raised her eyes to Bruce's dark-brown irises and pursed her lips.

" Bruce, you act like you've got a personal vendetta against him," she said, "Are you scared I'll drag the good name of Wayne Enterprises through the mud with me? Are you scared of bad PR?"

"Oh my god, not everything is about Wayne Enterprises or my reputation or anything like that," said Bruce defensively, "Maybe I actually care about this city and I think it's morally reprehensible to defend that man."

"He has a name, it's Jack Napier," said Lee coolly.

Bruce let out a bitter laugh.

"Are you even listening to me? I'm telling you this case isn't one you should touch with a ten-foot pole," he said, "It's going to contaminate you."

"This case happens to pay fifty grand a day," said Lee.

"So?" said Bruce.

"So, maybe I actually need to work for my income," said Lee louder than she'd intended to, "Maybe this is a lot of money to me."

"God, Rachel, this is a horrible idea," said Bruce.

"What did you call me?" said Lee.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry Lee," said Bruce, wiping a hand over his face, "I didn't mean to say that. I just don't like the sound of this."

"Don't worry about it," said Lee coldly, turning to look at the other couples at the other tables.

Bruce's Blackberry rang; he instinctively had it in his palm. Lee was momentarily impressed by the speed of his reflexes. Of course he would be quick, quick to cut this conversation short, quick to make his getaway goodbye excuse. She examined the wine bar menu. It was going to look like Taiquiris for Lee, alone, tonight.

"I'm sorry," said Bruce, tucking his phone back into his vest, "Where were we?"

"Probably halfway into a rowdy argument about the merits of me taking on a fifty-grand-a-day case," said Lee with a fierce frown, before blinking back up at Bruce and breaking into a grin in spite of herself.

Bruce laughed loudly.

"Please just think about it carefully," said Bruce, "I don't want you hurt."

"Touching, Mr. Wayne," said Lee as she toasted him with her champagne.

* * *

><p>Lee called Carl when she was in the comfortingly unglamorous shelter of her home again.<p>

"Is Bruce almighty down with the case?" he asked as soon as he picked up.

"I got him drunk enough that he probably couldn't refuse anything," said Lee with a lazy smile.

"Splendid, good gal," said Carl approvingly, "I'd hate to have the city's most powerful man, and your boyfriend to boot, mad at our humble law firm."

"He's not my boyfriend," said Lee, "We've only gone on three dates. But who's counting?"

"Evidently, you," said Carl.

"No, but I've just got one problem," said Lee.

"Spill," said Carl.

"I got stinking drunk while I was at it, at my persuasion," said Lee with a broad grin, "Want to come drink a few with me and get even more inebriated?"

"Bad girl," said Carl, "I want to, except Richard called and said he might be coming over later tonight. I'm just waiting up for him."

"Richard's not coming," said Lee, "Will you forget about your tangled love life and come get drunk now?"

Carl was quiet on the line.

"Fine," he said, "I'm bringing Barbara Streisand and some coffee right now. See you in five. And remember, you're the one calling up your dandy Mr. Tollini to tell him you'll take the case."


	2. Greasepaint

_Shorter chapter. Enjoy anyway._

_-Virge_

* * *

><p>"How soon can I meet my client?" said Lee as soon as she decisively set the manila folder before Mr. Tollini.<p>

Mr. Tollini grinned widely.

"Knew you'd come around, Miss August," he said.

"How soon can I meet him?" she said without a trace of a smile in her face.

"Well, right now if you're ready," said Mr. Tollini, "Care to cop a visit to the Metro Correctional Center?"

Lee flashed him a smile.

"Why not?"

On her way out, she passed Amanda at the desk.

"Amanda, be a dear and call up Steve, will you?" said Lee.

"Steve, the intern?" said Amanda.

"Steve, the burly intern, yes. I'm heading to the Met," said Lee.

Amanda softly chuckled and tapped a few buttons on her keyboard.

"He'll see you out front. And Carl says that when he gets back from the Rochester Case, he wants to see you," she said in all her rapid-fire secretarial glory.

"Thanks, Amanda," said Lee.

"Nervous, Steve?" said Lee as she looked at the buttoned-up college intern sitting across from her in the van.

Steve shrugged and kept his eyes fixedly out the window.

"This isn't the local immigration office, after all," said Lee conversationally, "Have you ever been to a jail?"

"No, not really," said Steve with his voice three notes too high.

Lee ignored this and turned to Mr. Tollini.

"So, why is my client still kicking it in the Met?" she asked, "Is his bail really that high?"

Mr. Tollini swallowed loudly.

"Well, yes."

"So your Mr. Maroni thought bail was too much, but apparently won't hesitate to pay me my weight in gold?" she said.

Mr. Tollini carefully weighed his words.

"We thought it best to leave him at the Metropolitan Correctional," said Mr. Tollini, "For obvious reasons. You'll understand when you see him."

"Well, when we go in to talk to him, get us a room with a view," said Lee and she turned to the passing greenery outside her window.

* * *

><p>He was wearing make-up. Greasepaint, to be exact, slathered on exorbitantly and cracked at his wrinkles and smile lines. Lee was surprised the prison wards hadn't made him wash off the clown make-up.<p>

Mr. Tollini started stammering out an introduction but Lee ignored him.

"I'm Attorney Lee August," said Lee, holding out her hand, "I'm your defense attorney."

He took his time looking over her face carefully. He looked apprehensive and irritated. Then, his face broke into an enormous smile.

"Hi, Miss August," he said.

His voice was nasally and his Chicagan accent was thick. Lee would have preferred it if he hadn't broke into a grin.

"You can go, Mr. Tollini," said Lee.

She took a seat in the office chair across from her client and took out a yellow legal notepad. Steve quickly mirrored her movements across the room. As Mr. Tollini took his time leaving the room, her client turned back to staring out the window.

Lee let the silence overtake the room. She watched her client patiently, studying him as a cat might to a mouse. He seemed equally determined to concentrate on the view. Behind them, Steve cleared his throat.

"So, Mr. Jack Napier," said Lee, "How are they treating you here?"

Her client slowly turned from the glass to look at her full-on. He grinned again.

"Not shabby," he said.

"Care to take a seat?" said Lee, indicating the office chair before her.

"Sure," he said, once again with a grin. The chair sank slightly as he sat in it. He scooted in a bit too close to Lee.

Lee crossed her legs.

"Want a light?" she asked, producing a pack of Marlboros and a lighter.

He never took his eyes off her but instead, slowly shook his head.

"That's poisonous," he said.

"No more poisonous than DDT," said Lee, "And lots more enjoyable."

He smiled again. Steve shuffled something.

"Well, Mr. Napier," said Lee, "You're accused of nine counts of robbery, twelve counts of homicide, sixteen counts of arson, and six other various felonies."

"Yeah, but what does that mean?" he said.

"It means your reign of terror last fall is going to get you into a lot of trouble," said Lee.

"How many counts of homicide again?" he said.

"Twelve," said Lee, looking up from her notepad to study him, "Why?"

"Oh, they need to learn to count better," he said and quickly checked her face for a reaction.

Lee refused to give him one.

"And what about the so-called Batman?" he said, "Are they charging him up with manslaughter too?"

"What?" said Lee, raising her eyebrows.

Her client smiled and looked pointedly at Steve.

"Can he go?" he asked, jerking a finger in Steve's direction, "I'm making him nervous."

"Steve. Wait outside. See if you can get Mr. Napier's prison file," said Lee.

Steve scurried out.

Lee sat back in her chair.

"Mr. Napier, do you want to know what I see when I look at your file?"

His wolfish grin again. Lee shifted in my seat.

"You need to plead guilty by reason of insanity."

This set him off into hysterics. His shoulders shook with laughter but his cold, dead eyes were still on me.

Lee felt uncomfortable and looked down at her legal pad.

"Y'know, it's funny," he said, "I haven't seen a woman for four hundred and sixty-six days."

Lee looked at him. Surely he wasn't taking the conversation to another, far more dangerous direction after five minutes of their initial meeting.

"And when I finally, you know, see my first lady," he said with a blatant glance at top of her conservative blouse, "She's incredibly uptight."

Lee sighed loudly and shook her head.

"Mr. Napier, if we're going to get you off, we need to be on the same side," she said.

He began uncontrollably laughing again, and Lee wondered if the laughter was manufactured.

"Miss Lee, nobody's ever on my side," he said, "See, regular people pick a side. They see the world in black or white. To them, I'm black. I'm black as they get. There's right and there's wrong. But what they don't get, see, what I get is that the people jumping back and forth between the night and day- we never have to pick. We just do what feels good."

"That's BS," Lee said immediately.

"What, now you won't do the honor of swearing in front of me?" he said.

"That's bull shit," said Lee tersely, "I'm sorry, Mr. Napier, but the court's not going to need to hear that, and frankly, neither am I."

"Aren't you my bona-fide attorney?" he said.

"I'm your defense lawyer. Not your friend," Lee said.

Lee let that statement hang in the silence. Then she produced a tape recorder.

"Miss Lee, you're planning on recording our encounter?" he said, "You're going to listen to my voice in the wee hours of the morning trying to break inside my head?"

Lee smiled.

"No, you're going to prepare an affidavit. You tell your story to the court using this tape recorder," she said, looking up into his eyes too late to see the black flash of anger behind them.

"I'm not telling a story," he said flatly.

"You're doing what everyone who goes to court does. Mr. Napier, you need to come down off your high horse for a minute and follow regulations for once," said Lee.

"Is regulations a fancy word for rules?"

"Yes-"

"_And do you not realize I don't follow rules?_"

He was standing over her, eyes blazing; her neck clenched uncomfortably as she strained to look him in the eyes.

"Listen to me. I didn't stay in this crazy jailhouse for a year so I could have you walk into my life like a ray of pure light to save me from the electric chair. You think I can't break out anytime I want to? You think your pal Maroni whose got you selling your morals for a couple grand a day isn't dead anytime I want him dead? You think think I'm going to plead _insanity_ in front of your precious court?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Lee snapped, "The electric chair was declared unconstitutional years ago."

Her client laughed and then shook his head. Strands of greasy orange-green hair flipped around. He leaned forward, his hands on the arms of Lee's office chair, his face two centimeters from hers, his eyes boring into hers.

He cupped a hand under her chin.

"I'm not crazy," he said, "I'm not."

"Don't touch me," Lee said angrily and knocked his arm aside as she rolled her chair back a few inches. Her client was left wildly off balance and for a split second, it looked as though he was lowered in a bow to her, before he caught his balance again and straightened up.

"I do what I want," he said.

Lee sighed again loudly.

"So do we all," she said, once again meeting his eyes.

"No. You don't_ ever_ do what you want."

Lee stared into his eyes and she decided she knew when to cut her losses.


	3. Pillows

_Enjoy and review, as always._

_- Virge_

* * *

><p>Lee shaded her eyes in the sunlight to look at the man rapidly approaching her.<p>

"Lee," said Bruce with a mischevious smile playing around his lips, "Beautiful today, I like it."

Lee frowned skeptically at him and walked the remaining few steps down to meet him and take his arm.

"I don't feel beautiful today," she said.

"Want to talk about it?" said Bruce.

Lee took a deep breath. She didn't want to. Bruce would say 'I told you so.'

"Or better yet," said Bruce, "Look what I found off your blouse pocket."

So saying, he reached over to the top fold of her blouse and produced two tickets with a flourish.

"British Virgin Islands," he said, "Round trip for two. Want to come with?"

Lee smiled but looked at him sideways.

"What does that make us?"

Bruce narrowed his eyes and looked off into the distance and said, "I want you to be my girlfriend exclusively."

"But why?" Lee said.

He smiled rather quickly and turned to her and pressed both her hands to his lips.

"Do I need a reason?" he said.

"Does that mean I don't date anyone on the side?" said Lee.

"Yes, that's what exclusive means," he said.

"I really don't understand," Lee said, "I know I've never been the only woman in your life since we met; I'm not gorgeous, I'm not tall, I'm not rich and I'm not a model. Most of all, I'm in the middle of a case that could produce a PR nightmare for your company, and you basically find me morally reprehensible. Why do you want me now?"

Bruce sighed but had the strength to look deeply into her eyes, or at least the bridge between her nose for a while.

"Please just let me fall for you, and if it's not worth your while, we'll end things," he said.

Lee looked apprehensive. He bent to kiss her slowly on the cheek.

"Please just try it," he said.

* * *

><p>Lee was sitting in a billionaire's bed. She was sitting in her billionaire boyfriend's bed. It was her first time in his bed and the sheets were 600 thread. Bruce was in the bathroom.<p>

He came out in his jeans and a shirt with the faded graphic of a dog on it. He looked like he badly wanted her.

"Come here," said Lee as she stood and crossed to the window.

Bruce had a ceiling-to-floor solid glass window with a spectacular view of Gotham. The city lights looked like a thousand stars to Lee.

"Great view," he said, looking at her and smiling appreciatively.

Lee smiled and placed both hands in his hair to bend his head towards her. They kissed again. Lee was crackling with electricity and she felt every inch of alive.

Bruce quickly turned her around and began to unzip her shirt from the back. She slowly pulled the blouse over her head. He tried to undo her bra but she tore his hands away and took a step away from him before turning around and facing him with a smile.

By the light of the city, she looked radiant, and so did he.

"Oh, God," he said.

She reached over and they took his shirt off together.

His stomach was flat and chiseled and rock-hard to the touch. Lee stood on kissed his left shoulder blade, then his right one, and then hovered in the hollow of his throat between the two.

"Do you want to move to the bed?" Lee said quietly.

"No, I like overlooking the city," said Bruce, "I want-"

He knelt to the ground and gently pulled her sandals off. He moved to her waist and for a moment, simply held her by the hipbones as she tangled her fingers through his hair.

Lee unzipped her skirt and pulled it down.

"God, you're beautiful," said Bruce as he leaned his cheek against her right thigh and felt the small of her back with his hands, "You are so beautiful."

She pulled him up to his feet and knelt before him and undid his belt and unzipped him quickly. She extricated his boxers with rare precision.

His erection was hard to the touch.

He closed his eyes as she made her way back onto her feet, running her hands up his sides for support.

"Should I go get something?" he said.

"Lucky you I took my pills," she said and wrapped her hands around his shoulder.

He took off her panties with ease and let them fall to the side.

Bruce cupped his hands under both of her buttocks and raised her until she was eye-to-eye with him. Lee wavered, and then crashed into his lips with renewed enthusiasm.

He backed her against the glass.

"Don't drop me," said Lee.

"I couldn't," said Bruce, "The glass is bullet-proof."

Lee laughed softly then, but Bruce didn't notice, and it was at this moment that he entered her. He eased all the way until he'd reached what must be her cervix and they breathed out together as he pulled back out.

He got faster; he thrust into her while pressing her harder against the glass. She cried out, then bit his shoulder. Every inward thrust seemed to hurt a bit more. His eyes were closed and hers were wide open.

He was pounding into her almost rhythmically now, with every outward breathe a slight ease on the pain.

His lips found hers again and he opened his eyes and looked into the city as she whispered, "Yes, Bruce, that's it."

She came with a few shudders and clenched so hard around his erection, he groaned, "Oh, wow, Lee."

Then he came inside her, and they shuddered in total synchronization for a few seconds, no more than ten. His eyes were wide open and the city was seared into his retina.

She sighed and pushed him back, then dragged him with her onto his bed.

He had his hands on her bra; it went up and over his head; she tore the two bobby pins from her hair.

He had softened, but as she grinded against him he was slowly springing back to full attention. Bruce flipped Lee on top of him and held onto her shoulders as she worked over his erection.

She was sinking and then raising her womanhood over him repeatedly now and he couldn't stand to watch lest he lose all control. He pulled her closer over him and then raised her himself; then his hands went back up to her shoulders.

In the moment of clarity shortly before he came, he tightened his grip on her shoulders until she cried out in pain and only then did he come again, this time with her lips tightened on his, the moan stolen from her lips to his.

She came quickly again and loosened her grip on him.

Bruce let go of her shoulders and she lowered herself onto his chest. Her cheek covered his left nipple. They closed their eyes and gathered whatever parts of each other could easiest be held and breathed together.

"Thank you, Lee," said Bruce, "It's been a long time."

"I'm surprised," said Lee, as she quickly rolled off him and lay facing the ceiling, "I didn't think you'd be the type to not-"

"Ssh," said Bruce, covering her mouth with his hand, "Can you hear that? I can hear the city whispering to me."

Lee sighed and closed her eyes in quiet wonder. In two minutes, she was asleep. Bruce listened as her breathing slowly became regular and withdrew his hands from her now stained ruby-red lips.

She was his enigma, his chase, and his lady, and she'd come home at last.

* * *

><p>Lee woke to Bruce slowly tracing shapes on her back.<p>

"Bruce," she said in a two-note sigh.

"Morning, beautiful," he said as he took his time getting acquainted with the swoop of her neck.

Lee smiled into her pillow and slowly entangled her legs with Bruce's.

Bruce tucked an arm under her waist and the other arm over it and dragged Lee closer to the bend between his torso and his legs.

"Remember when you were upset yesterday?" he said.

"I wasn't upset," said Lee quickly.

"Okay, when you were unhappy," he said.

"I wasn't unhappy either, really," she said, leaning back comfortably against his neck.

"Well, whatever you were other than completely at peace," said Bruce, "Do you want to talk about it now?"

"Not really," said Lee into the pillow.

"Come on, Lee," said Bruce, "Please just tell me. I know it was the case."

"It wouldn't interest you," said Lee.

"I'm completely interested. Tell me," said Bruce, "I want to hear about it."

"Why?" said Lee, turning around to face him with a rustle of the sheets.

Bruce let out a small laugh.

"I'm your boyfriend," he said, "Who else are you going to tell things to?"

"I don't tell things to anyone," said Lee, looking up over the side of his ear, "I don't even tell myself."

"But tell me now," said Bruce, "I want to hear it. Really, I do."

Lee looked at him with the slightest hint of bewilderment.

"It's nondescript," she said at last, "It's exactly coming out the way I thought it would."

"The case?" said Bruce.

"The case, my client, oh, my client's exactly…"

"Exactly what?"

"I knew what I was signing up for. He's a nutcase. If he wasn't accused of twelve murders and that little public terrorism piece, he would've gotten into guilty by case of insanity just fine. But the city hates him. No jury's going to give him anything less than life," said Lee, "My best hope is to arrange parole, probably. I don't know what Maroni will think of that."

"Why would Mafia members be so interested in your client?" asked Bruce softly and carefully.

"I honestly don't know," said Lee, shifting to the other side again and shuffling her back closer to Bruce, "I get the feeling they want to cover something up and I get the feeling they're scared he's going to squeal on them. And maybe they're scared he'll come after him and the only way to protect themselves is to land him squarely in jail."

"But then why would they hire you?" said Bruce.

"Maybe they're banking on me failing," said Lee.

"They'd be idiots to consider you ever failing," said Bruce quickly.

Lee laughed softly and then sighed again and closed her eyes.

Behind her, Bruce watched the rise and fall of her shoulders for a long time, lost in thought.


End file.
